bunt sign

Sunday, October 2, 2005

I was sitting on the fence today, about getting any work done or not. If I hadnít had a personal stake in it, I probably would have vegetated my Sunday away as usual. But I need money. And Iím not saying that in the sense that if I donít work I donít get paid. What Iím saying is that part of my job is writing my own payroll check. Funny that a person would get paid for paying himself, but there you go. I sign my own name on the check, too.

As previously discussed, without any money in the company checking account, writing myself a paycheck (and signing it) does little good. It could even do some harm, if I should happen to try to deposit a check that I know isnít covered. The good news is that I had a desperate message on my answering machine when I got home last night. Some of the guys didnít get last weekís paychecks in the mail. So I know thereís actually some money in the account, at least until the post office gets things straightened out.

I think I was expected to panic when I got that message, but instead I got annoyed. Tim arranges things so that I canít mail each weekís payroll before Wednesday, and if thereís a mail hang-up somewhere between here and there (a distance of about a hundred miles), itís not my fault. I get blamed anyway, and I get desperate phone calls, as if thereís anything I can do about it. Iím not driving to Sacramento to do the post officeís job for them, I can promise you that.

26 September 2005

Evening skyline.

At least I know Iím not the only one desperate for money. Iím just the only one who can do something about it, and thatís why I spent my Sunday afternoon writing checks, one to the company account and one to myself. There will be high living here at the cabin tomorrow, at last. I can finally afford a carton of ice cream. I just have to learn how to make it last a month.

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The Giants ended the regular season (their only season) on a high note with a 3-1 win over the Diamondbacks and a complete game from Brett Tomko. The game featured something Iíd never seen before, a curtain call from a player who had done nothing more dramatic than come out of the game for a pinch runner. And it happened twice. After J.T. Snowís first-inning single the crowd, knowing this could be his last day in a Giantsí uniform, showed its appreciation for his contribution to the team over the last nine years. And in the seventh, Randy Winn, a player who had been here for only 56 games, was given a standing ovation by the fans, acknowledging the spark he gave this team down the stretch, and perhaps the hope that heíll be back next year. Because next year? Thatís all thatís left for the Giants. And it starts tomorrow morning.

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